


Don't Hold Back

by jacaranda_bloom



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Australia, Banter, Cross Your Mind, Explicit Sexual Content, Famous Niall, Fluff, Harry/Liam/Louis/Zayn Friendship, Lads Adventure, M/M, Non-Famous Harry, Rock Star Niall, Superfan Harry, famous/non-famous, heartbreak weather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27093301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacaranda_bloom/pseuds/jacaranda_bloom
Summary: Niall Horan superfan, Harry Styles, is six months into the Great Australian Lads Adventure with his three best mates when the group secures VIP tickets to Niall’s Sydney show. After a bit of banter at soundcheck gets the attention of the rockstar himself, they score invitations to the exclusive after party.Cue terrible flirting, great music, awesome wingmen, and lame golf jokes.
Relationships: Niall Horan/Harry Styles
Comments: 36
Kudos: 103
Collections: Heartbreak Weather Fic Fest





	1. I, Harry Styles

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the [Heartbreak Weather Fic Fest](https://heartbreakweatherficfest.tumblr.com//). Make sure you check out all the other great fics in the collection which can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HeartbreakWeatherFicFest//)!
> 
> Hi and thanks for dropping by to check out my little story, I hope you like it. This is based on the song Cross Your Mind.
> 
> The commissioned cover artwork for this fic was created by the immensely talented Tanya (aka wilywolf). Please go and show them some love on [ Tumblr ](https://wilywolf.tumblr.com/) and [ Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/wilywolf92/).
> 
> Thank you to my lovely beta's [ 1Danny](https://twitter.com/buiguiwaffles?s=21/), [ MJ](https://louislouisohbaby.tumblr.com/), and [ Lynda](https://wait4ever.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Comments and kudos are always welcome - they make me so happy and I appreciate them greatly. xx

“Yes, Penny, that’s correct. The course starts in September and will run for the full semester. You’ll be emailed a timetable by the Head Teacher closer to the starting date,” Harry assures her.

“And I come to the campus for all the classes?” Penny asks softly. She’s so nervous and Harry tries to allay her fears.

“Yup. The email with the timetable will also have a campus map and details of the information evening when you can come and meet the teachers and other staff, take a tour of the facilities, and ask any detailed questions you might have.”

“Oh, thanks. That sounds good. It’s been a while since I studied so it’s a bit overwhelming.”

Bless her. Penny is a mature aged student who has lost her job in manufacturing and has decided to retrain in aged care. It’s a big undertaking, but the new vocation will suit the needs in her area, so he’s confident that if she sticks with it she’ll do well. Harry is so proud of her taking such a big step, it isn’t easy to switch careers at her age.

“You’re gonna do great, Penny. And we’ll be here to support you the whole way through,” Harry says as the call board on the far wall flashes red indicating the backlog of calls has hit forty so he needs to wrap this up and get to the next student. They’re short-staffed in the Call Centre today, school holidays and a stomach bug that took down a few of his colleagues meaning they’re stretched thin on this shift until the eleven o’clock guys arrive. 

“Thanks. I’m excited to get started. This casual work at the club is alright but I need something more consistent.”

“I understand. It can be tough to manage when you don’t have a reliable source of income. But I think you’ve chosen well with aged care. None of us are getting any younger, right?”

Penny chuckles. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“Okay. Well, I think we’re all good for now, but if you have any other questions before the information session, don’t hesitate to give us a call. We’re here from eight to six Monday to Friday, and nine to five on Saturdays. And you can email us or use our online chat facility as well, if you’d prefer.”

“Thanks, Harry. That’s great. And I appreciate you taking the time with me, I know I had a lot of questions.”

Harry smiles. He loves this job. Loves being able to help people make a new start and learn new skills to get the jobs they want. It’s not a glamorous role, but the pay is pretty good, the working environment is great and being there to support lovely people like Penny is an added bonus.

“Of course, love. You’re doing great. You have a good day okay? Bye, Penny.”

“Bye, Harry.”

As he clicks out of the call and places himself in After Call Work to finish updating her record in the system, an alert goes off on his phone. Harry glances over, the blue Twitter banner shining brightly indicating that one of the Niall Horan update accounts he follows has sent out a tweet. Pap pics. Oh god,  _ yes _ ! He itches to open it but he’ll have to wait until his break. A second and third alert go off and he shifts in his seat. He knows Niall is in LA at the moment which usually means drool-worthy shots of him walking down the street in tight trousers or maybe he’ll be blessed with new pics of him in a tank top leaving the gym. They’re definitely his favourites.

The alarm on the call board goes off flashing angrily that there are now fifty callers in the queue. He sighs and flips his phone over so he won’t hear or see any more alerts, quickly finishes up with Penny’s record, and changes his status to Available, the next call dropping into his queue immediately.

“Hi and thanks for calling TAFE New South Wales. This is Harry, how can I assist you today?”

The rest of the morning blends into one long stream of calls and Harry watches the clock in the corner of his screen, counting down the minutes until his lunch break. Finally, it ticks over to twelve-thirty and he places himself in Break status. He stretches out his back and takes off his headset, rolling his chair out and pocketing his phone before making a beeline for the staff lunchroom. He’s brought leftovers from last night’s dinner, just some rice and veg with sweet chilli tofu. It’s a simple meal but always tastes great the next day. There’s a queue for the microwave so he lines his container up and goes to sit on the comfy lounge in the corner to wait his turn. 

He pulls his phone out and finds a sea of alerts from Twitter and Tumblr all screaming about the new pics. He cracks open Tumblr first as they’re more likely to have the good, edited pics what with the stupid copyright rules on Twitter making it hard to post pap pics.

When he opens the first edit he very nearly swallows his tongue. Niall. In a tank top. Leaving the gym. He lets out a little squeal of delight.

Harry scrolls through his phone, picture after glorious picture filling his screen. He saves a few off to his camera roll for later as the microwave dings. He jumps up and pops his food in to reheat, leaning on the bench as he delves deeper into Tumblr to see everyone’s reactions. 

“Oi Oi, lads!” Harry hears Louis shout and he looks up just as Louis comes up behind Zayn and Liam and flings his arms around their shoulders, nearly knocking them both to the ground as they make their way into the lunchroom.

The four of them always take their breaks at the same time when they can; their team leader, Lindsay, having a sweet spot for the ‘UK Boys’ as she likes to call them. They all started at the same time, lucky enough to get temp contracts with a big intake a couple of months ago. They’re partway through the East Coast leg of their Great Australian Lads Adventure and were running low on funds, so when this gig came up it was a perfect fit. A seaside town with cheap accommodation, sunshine, great surfing beaches and an easy,  _ indoor _ job. Harry cringes internally as he remembers their last jobs up in Northern Queensland as labourers on a highway construction site. Painfully long, twelve-hour night shifts and the smell of hot tar that never quite left Harry’s skin no matter how hard he scrubbed. So yeah. The Call Centre is a far more civilized existence and given what they’re about to do he’s never been more grateful to have this job.

Today is a big day. Today is Niall Day. His Sydney show goes on pre-sale in thirty minutes and Harry has been abuzz with nervous excitement since the moment he woke up this morning. 

“What are you looking at so intently on your phone, Haz?” Louis asks as he wanders up behind Harry, peering over his shoulder at his phone.

“Like you even have to ask Tommo,” Liam offers unhelpfully from over by the sink.

Harry tilts his head back and even upside down Louis’ mischievous expression is obvious. He’s clearly not going to get away with dismissing him, although his friends really should know better by now; it’s not like he’s ever pretended his affections for Niall were less than all-consuming. “New pap pics of my man in LA.”

“ _ Your _ man,” Louis states dramatically coming around in front of Harry. “Haz, c’mon. We’ve spoken about this. Maybe we need to run through it again, eh?” He grips onto Harry’s wrists and fixes him with a stern gaze. “Now. Repeat after me. I am not in a relationship with Niall Horan.”

Harry giggles and plays along. “I am in a relationship with Niall Horan.”

“Haz,” Louis sighs dramatically. “Let’s try that again. I, Harry Styles.”

“I, Harry Styles,” Harry parrots back.

“Am  _ not _ .”

“Am not.”

“In a relationship with.”

Harry schools his expression trying desperately not to laugh. “In a relationship with.”

“Niall Horan.”

“Niall Horan.”

“Awesome,” Louis says with a nod. “Let’s put it all together. I, Harry Styles, am not in a relationship with Niall Horan.”

“I, Harry Styles, am in a relationship with Niall-“

“No! Ugh,” Louis throws his hands in the air. “You’re a lost cause.”

And yeah, Harry really kind of is.

They finish their quick lunch and head back into the main room, the boys huddling-up around his desk as the background chatter of calls in progress fills the space.

“Okay. So what’s the plan? Lay it out for us, Haz,” Liam says, concentration etched on his face.

Harry clicks through to the Telstra Plus screen and into the members presale area. “So the tickets go on presale at one o’clock through Telstra. You use your account number… you’ve all got your account-“

“Yes, Haz,” they all groan back at him.

“And you’ve got my credit card details?”

“You need to breathe, babes,” Zayn says, squeezing Harry’s shoulder. “We’re all set. We’re gonna nail this.”

“Alright, alright,” Harry says with a heavy sigh. He’s nervous, is the thing. So fucking nervous.

The Australian leg of Niall’s tour goes on sale in five minutes and he desperately wants soundcheck tickets. They all do actually. The show is going to be sold out for sure, but by going with the presale he’s hoping they can snag the more exclusive, and more expensive, VIP packages which will give them a raft of special extras in addition to the coveted soundcheck access, which is really what Harry’s aiming for. It’s pricey, nearly eight hundred dollars each, but they’re intending to make a weekend of it and live it up in a swanky hotel for two nights as well. They’re all pretty careful with their money, and haven’t splashed out on anything since they started in the Call Centre, so this will be a treat. Harry might be Niall’s biggest fan, but the other boys love his music too and, more importantly, they love Harry. He’s really quite lucky to have such amazing mates.

“So we just go through there, login, and then we’ll be redirected?” Louis asks, leaning over Harry’s shoulder to get a better look.

“Yup,” Harry confirms. “And then whoever manages to get four tickets in their basket buys them for all of us using my credit card details.” They’ve planned ahead, all the boys transferring their money over into Harry’s account, that way it’s just one transaction.

“Solid plan,” Zayn says and pats Harry on the back. “We’ve got this.”

The boys make their way over to their desks as Lindsay comes by the check on him. “You all set, Harry?”

Harry glances over his shoulder at his Team Leader. Bless her for being so understanding. “Yeah. Reckon so. Fingers crossed!”

“I’ll leave you to it. Let me know when you’re ready to go back online. Good luck!” she says with a wave as she heads back to her own spot at the rear of the call centre. Harry is so grateful that Lindsay understands the importance of this, easily agreeing to give the four of them a slightly extended break if they need it. Most bosses wouldn’t have been so accommodating. 

He watches intently as the counter ticks down on his screen, glancing up to see the same counter on Liam’s screen which is in his line of sight. They just  _ have _ to get the tickets. Harry will be crushed if they don’t. They’ve all seen Niall in concert a few times in the UK, but have never had the means to try for VIP packages.

Thirty seconds. His fingers twitch on the mouse as he hovers over the refresh button, eyes darting back and forth.

Ten seconds. “Here we go, lads,” Louis says from a few desks away. 

Five seconds. Harry’s going to explode.

Two seconds. 

One.

He hits refresh and watches as the screen changes before his eyes. He clicks through until he reaches the right page and then hits the wrong button and accidentally exits out.  _ Fuck _ . He goes back in and is just about to repeat the process when there’s a  _ whoop _ from across the room.

“I got them!” Liam shouts. Harry jumps up and strides over.

Harry scans the screen. “You sure?”

“Yup. Four VIP packages,” Liam says proudly pointing at the basket. He clicks through and the transaction processes. Zayn and Louis join them and Harry’s heart feels like it’s lodged in his throat as he waits for the confirmation to pop up. 

Finally, after what seems like an eternity the little blue box appears with the sweetest words Harry has ever seen.  _ Congratulations, your order has been successfully processed. _ Harry could cry.

“We’ve got them!” He shouts and pumps his fists in the air, Lindsay giving him a double-thumbs up from the back of the room. Zayn wraps Harry in a tight hug as Louis bounces on his toes, slapping Liam on the back.

“This is gonna be epic,” Louis says beaming a bright smile at Harry.

“Yeah,” Harry murmurs, unable to hold back the broad smile that blooms on his face, a mixture of sheer joy and relief coursing through his veins. “Yeah, it really is.”


	2. Bit Of Banter

Niall strides down the long hallway from the catering area to his dressing room, plate of food in hand and giving a nod and a smile to anyone who is brave enough to meet his eyes. Fame is a funny thing, people want to be in your space, but are mostly too afraid to actually approach, preferring to be able to say they saw you, or worked with you, or breathed the same air as you, but without actually talking to you. Sometimes it’d be nice if people just treated him like a regular bloke, bit of banter and all that, but he understands it must be hard for people to see him that way.

The atmosphere backstage before a big show is always a little bit chaotic and always a little bit boring. It’s an odd mix really, everyone around him is so busy, somewhere to be, problems to solve. For him, though, it can be a little tedious. Aside from being where he’s supposed to be, when he’s supposed to be there—hair, makeup, wardrobe, sound check, and the like—he’s pretty much left to his own devices. He used to do pre-show interviews but after one too many assholes riled him up, he’d instigated a strict no-interviews-before-a-show rule. The last thing he needs is some prick getting into his head fishing for details about which bloke he’s dating or what he thinks of the latest Twitter meme. Instead, he tends to just chill out, try and find someone to play ping pong with, or fuck around on his guitar. 

He steps through the doorway of his dressing room and finds his manager sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone. He doesn’t even glance up as Niall sets his food down on the coffee table. “What’s for lunch?” Davie asks absentmindedly.

“Rice and veg with steamed chicken,” Niall replies as he unwraps his knife and fork from the napkin.

“Sounds tasty,” Davie says with a nod.

“And a side of brontosaurus balls with crispy scorpion on a bed of poison ivy.”

Davie just hums in acknowledgment too engrossed in whatever the fuck is so interesting on his screen to even bother to listen. Niall chuckles and scoops up a mouthful of food. 

“Wait. What?” Davie finally focuses on him and looks up, locking his phone.

Niall swallows and takes a sip of his water. “Hi.”

“Shit, sorry.”

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing. All good. Just checking the rest of the Aussie dates. You’re officially sold out. Congrats!”

“Get in!” Niall shouts and offers his hand for a fist bump before going back to his lunch.

“After party should be a good one tonight.”

“Mmmm?”

“Yeah. The Coogee Pavilion, Rooftop Bar. Booked the place out, of course. Got anyone I need to add to the list?”

“Nah. Not for this one.”

“Okay,” Davie says and gets to his feet. “I’m gonna go see about a few things before soundcheck. You’ve got a couple of hours. Maybe have a kip?”

“Always feel like shit after I take a nap. Think I’ll pass. Might see if I can scrounge up a willing victim for a bit of ping pong later.”

“Alright. Suit yourself. Catch ya!” And with that he’s out the door and off to do whatever important things his manager does before show time. They’ve been together since the beginning; Davie, always a rock and supportive of the career decisions Niall has made. He’s great at his job, but he’s also his best mate, been there through everything, from his small beginnings in dingy pubs back home, to his first album and now  _ global domination _ as Davie always likes to call it. He’s not too far off the mark really, Niall muses. Two Grammy’s and a host of other awards, including an Oscar for Best Song, worldwide arena tours, a few stadiums along the way too; proof positive that he’s made it.

Niall lifts the lid of his Mac and brings up the PGA video he was watching before he went to grab lunch. He loves being on tour, on the road performing before his legions of fans, but he misses his golf. There’s nothing quite like the crunch underfoot of frost covered grass resplendent in the early morning light, the smell of freshly cut greens trimmed to perfection, or the sound of a well-hit drive down the fairway. He gets in a round here and there where he can on the road, but it’s never the same as it is at home.

An hour later he’s getting restless and heads back to the catering area where the ping pong table is set up. He finds Bobby, his sound tech, and Vera, his stylist, deep in concentration as they whack away with their paddles.

“Who’s winning?” Niall asks as he leans up against the wall next to Davie who has apparently finished with whatever important things he had to do.

“Vera’s wiping the floor with him again.”

“So, the usual, then?”

“Mhmm… wanna rematch?” Davie queries, turning with an evil smirk on his face. 

Niall nudges his shoulder. “You’re a dirty rotten cheat and you know it.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says all faux-innocent. “Never pegged you for a sore loser, Horan.”

“Flipping the table while I’m mid-swing on the tie breaker point and claiming victory is not, I repeat,  _ not _ winning.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see.”

They do see. Davie grinds him to a pulp, two games to nothing. He needs friends who are less handy with a bat or maybe he should just stick to golf.

He heads back to his dressing room and Vera fixes his hair before he finishes getting ready and wanders back toward the stage entrance. Bobby is waiting for him, mic pack in hand, and one of Niall’s guitars sitting propped on a stand beside him.

“Crowd seems excited,” Bobby says as Niall lifts his shirt and Bobby attaches the mic pack to his belt, threading his in-ears up under the collar of his polo and leaving them hanging loose over his shoulders.

Niall nods. “Me too. Should be fun.”

He’s more dressed-down for soundcheck than the main show, not that he wears anything garish for those either. His style has evolved over the years as he’s matured and fashions have changed. When he first broke into the scene he was practically a teenager, eager to impress and stand out at the ripe old age of twenty-one. His dress sense hadn’t exactly been something he’d thought to actively develop, just happy to follow along with the trends and what felt comfortable while he focused on the music. But he’s learned over the last eight years that how he looks is an important part of the brand that is Niall Horan. He’s worked with Vera for a while now, and she gets him. She gets that he wants to look good, but needs the clothes to allow him the freedom to move on stage. She gets that when shirts ride up with his guitar strap they annoy the fuck out of him. She gets that while he might want to stay up with the fashions, he’s still him, and the clothes need to reflect the man. 

For soundcheck she’s got him in a pair of dark-blue jeans and a black polo, paired with brown suede boots and a brown belt. It’s simple, but it suits him. For the main show later tonight, he’ll just switch the shirt to a short-sleeved paisley button down and then to a t-shirt for the after party. Casual, but not too casual. She gets him and he’d be lost without her.

“Okay. You’re all set,” Bobby says from behind him, tapping him on the shoulder. 

Niall slings the strap over his head and spins the guitar around to his back. There’s a few minutes before he’s due to start so he takes the opportunity to sneak a peek out at the crowd. He loves the adrenaline rush of the main gig, but sometimes these smaller groups, made up of people who are true fans and have forked out the extra for VIP packages, are even better. Getting to interact directly with them, chat, and answer questions is such a grounding experience, although there’s more often than not quite a few deers in the headlights. He understands how overwhelming it must be, talking directly to him, but he does his best to make it a relaxed environment.

He stays hidden in the shadows behind a tall speaker as he casts his eyes out over the crowd. The arena holds around eighteen thousand people and it’s a bit weird to see it so empty, only a few hundred with the golden tickets to fill the space. 

The VIP package gets them access to soundcheck, pit tickets for the main show, a goodie bag with some exclusive merch, and entry to a private bar to get boozed up before the show. They also get escorted from the bar to the pit ahead of the line up, which is nice for them but also for himself, because the people he interacts with at soundcheck are likely to fill the front few rows of the main show. Familiar faces staring back at him and screaming the words to his songs always gives him a boost when he’s on stage.

There’s the usual predominance of women in their late teens and twenties in the crowd, chatting and gesticulating wildly in small groups, most wearing his merch which his manager will be thrilled about.

A honking laugh catches his attention and he scans the sea of faces for the origin, his gaze falling on a group of four guys sitting in the front row. They’re about his age and damn if they aren’t all fit as fuck. There’s a guy with raven hair in a high quiff, wearing all black and an impressive collection of tattoos on display. Next to him is a buff dude with brown hair and even more tatts. The third guy is slightly smaller with tanned skin and high cheekbones, his face beaming as he laughs causing his eyes to crinkle shut. Beside him, the last bloke is doubled over, face in his hands, chocolate curls falling around his ears and by the way the others are pointing at him and laughing hysterically, Niall suspects he’s the owner of the unusual laugh.

It’s not completely foreign to have groups of guys like this at his shows, and Niall prides himself on being inclusive with all his fans, but it’s definitely not the norm.

He waits a few beats for the fourth man to sit up, curious as to what might be hiding under all those glorious curls. He’s about to look away when Curly rights himself and Niall nearly chokes on his tongue. He’s fucking stunning. Cheeks reddened from embarrassment with dimples cratered on each side of a wide mouth which is framed by perfectly plush, pink, kissable lips. He’s broad, or maybe that’s just in comparison to his more petite friend to his side, shirt halfway unbuttoned to reveal curious tattoos and strings of silver necklaces, and a lightly stubbled jaw that Niall would like to trail his fingers over.

“See something you like?” Davie asks from behind him, making Niall jump and spin around, knocking his guitar against the speaker.

“Holy fuck! You bastard. You scared the shit out of me.”

Davie just chuckles and smirks, pointing over Niall’s shoulder at the crowd. Niall turns to find Curly staring straight back at him, eyes wide, mouth agape.

The blush that rampages up Niall’s neck and face is mortifying and the catcalls and wolf whistles from the lads alongside Curly don’t help matters. He’s frozen on the spot, staring into the big round eyes of one of the most gorgeous men he’s ever laid eyes on. For a brief moment, it’s just the two of them, the rest of the world fading out and blurring around the edges. It’s less than a few seconds but feels like a lot longer and then the sound of the crowd comes rushing back in and the bubble is burst.

Davie pats him on the back. “You ready?”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to be now that my cover is blown, you idiot,” Niall says, snapping himself out of his reverie and striding out onto the stage. He pointedly avoids making eye contact with Curly again but he still catches his mates ribbing him in his peripheral vision; hard not to really as they’re only a few metres away.

_ Focus _ . Fuck.

He switches on his mic pack and waves his hands, greeting the excited crowd as he makes his way to the high chair set up in the middle of the stage. “Hello, Sydney!”

His band mates file in behind him, taking up their spots at their instruments and tuning in, Dylan giving a few runs on the drums.

Niall swings his guitar around to his front and slides up onto the seat, settling himself, knees apart and the balls of his booted feet propped on the rung of the chair. “How are we all?”

Shouts of  _ great _ and  _ awesome _ mixed with hoots and hollers ring out and echo in the cavernous arena. It’s always a little weird being on stage like this in the daytime, absent the cover of darkness, meaning he can see every face clearly. He scans the crowd and momentarily forgets himself and his eyes land right back on Curly. The man gives a soft, shy smile and Niall really has to get a hold of himself before he becomes too obvious.

“Alright. So we’re gonna kick off with a couple of songs and then I get to answer some of your carefully thought-out questions,” Niall says and turns to the high table next to him. He picks up the box of questions the fans have submitted on their way in and gives it a shake before setting it back down again.

“This is No Judgement.”

The audience oohs and aahs and claps politely, not yet warmed up, but it doesn’t take them long, singing along to every word. They call it soundcheck, but in reality, that’s all been taken care of earlier in the day so this is more of a pre-show performance than anything else.

He moves straight onto Slow Hands next and that gets the crowd really going. He’s pleasantly surprised to find Curly and his mates are up on their feet dancing suggestively and belting out the lyrics, confirming they’re true fans.

After finishing the introductory set with Dear Patience he takes a sip of water and picks the first question out of the box.

“Right,” he says leaning on his guitar. “Let’s see what we have here.”

He unfolds the piece of paper and reads aloud. “Mary from Bankstown…” he trails off and looks up to find her in the crowd. A hand shoots up towards the back and he nods and smiles. “Mary would like to know how I came up with the title Heartbreak Weather. Well, I started like, writing things down, titles, concepts for songs and stuff like that, and Heartbreak Weather was one of the first things I ever wrote down. I was trying to think how I could write an album about heartbreak that wasn’t about, like, oh, poor me I’m so sad. Everything being really, you know, narcissistic and selfish, so I just thought there must be a way of writing an album from all the different types of angles from a breakup. From the other person’s angle, from people looking in, and your general feelings from throughout the relationship instead of it all being sad at the end. So when I wrote down Heartbreak Weather it just came out of nowhere and from then on I was able to use that as my concept, and it became more of a concept album from the minute I had that, rather than just a normal heartbreak album. Great question, Mary. Awesome start.”

Mary beams back at him, obviously happy with the response. “Right. Next question. You all have a lot to live up to,” he says and waggles a finger at the crowd earning giggles and chuckles as he plucks the next question from the box.

“Lucia from Gladesville…” he says and looks up, his gaze finding a squealing thirty-something woman off to his right. “Lucia would like to know who is the most frequently contacted person on my phone. Hang on,” he says and reaches into his back pocket to retrieve his phone. He starts scrolling through WhatsApp. “I mean, WhatsApp groups are a good way of getting to most people. I would say right now, because we’re on tour, there’s a lot of banter going on between myself and my band and the rest of the crew. My other mates as well, back home, we’ve got WhatsApp groups and they’re pretty good for, like, keeping in touch with everyone while I’m away. Some mad pictures get sent, and voice noting each other so I would say just… the lads… Yeah. The lads are the most contacted people in my phone.”

Lucia looks satisfied with his response, even though he dodged a direct answer. “Alright, one more and then we’ll play some more tunes,” Niall says and fishes in the box for another piece of paper.

“Harry from Cheshire… wait. Seriously?” Niall looks up, his gaze immediately drawn to the group of lads in the front row who are shouting and jostling Curly. “This is you? You're from the UK?” He asks Curly—or Harry apparently—directly.

“Oi, Oi!” The guy beside Curly yells, pumping the air with his fist as the other two high five each other.

“You're Harry?” Niall asks and Harry’s cheeks are flushed at the attention.

“Yeah. I’m Harry and this is Louis, Liam, and Zayn,” he says, his deep voice drawling out long and low as he points to each of his friends in turn. “We’re all from the UK, here on our Great Australian Lads Adventure.”

“That’s sick, lads,” Niall says and goes back to Harry’s question. “Okay. So Harry from Cheshire wants to know about the love of my…” he trails off, brows furrowing as he reads the question to himself before he says it out loud. There are gasps from the crowd as they presumably finish the question for themselves, the inference not lost on them. Niall reads it to himself, and then once more and that’s when it finally hits him. He snaps his eyes up to find a smirking Harry, eyes narrowed in glee. “Oooooh I see how it is. Fancy yourself a comedian, yeah?”

“I try,” Harry says faux-innocently with a shrug of his shoulder, looking awfully pleased with himself.

Niall gathers himself for what is likely to be an interesting few minutes. “Right. So, Harry here wants to know about the love of my life and my favourite... hole.”

The silence in the room is almost deafening, a sea of mouths hanging open in shock, breaths held as they await Niall's response. He tries to hold himself together for a bit longer but fails miserably, laughter bubbling up and bursting out uncontrollably. He throws his head back and cackles so hard he nearly tips himself off the chair.

“Harry!” He hears one of his mates shout. “I can’t believe you  _ did _ that.”

“What? It’s a legitimate question,” Harry says cheekily.

Niall rights himself and is met with a very confused looking audience. This is the most fun he’s had at one of these in ages and he’s going to milk it for all it’s worth.

“Well. I’d say the love of my life is… doing well. Always there for me when I need to let off some steam, or as a distraction from the craziness of this life. Been there from the start, before the fame. A constant presence even if I don’t spend as much time working on our relationship as I should…” he says, keeping them all in suspense. “Hmmmm… favourite hole. That’s a tough one because there’s really three to choose from,” he says and waits a beat for the crowd to catch up. He’s openly gay so this is understandably causing some  _ very _ confused looks. He watches on as the confusion morphs into shock, the audience doing gay-sex-math in their heads and rapidly concluding that one plus one does not, in fact, equal three.

He glances back to Harry who is grinning comically wide, pride etched on his face that Niall is playing along with his joke. Harry mouths the words  _ Amen Corner _ and Niall just smiles and nods, sharing a private moment in the midst of the chaos that is rapidly building around them.

The whispers are increasing in volume and Davie is probably about to run on the stage and crash tackle him so he decides to put everyone out of their misery.

“All right, all right, get yer minds out of the gutter you bloody heathens. Golf.  _ Golf _ is the love of my life and my favourite hole is Amen Corner at Augusta, which is actually three holes - the eleventh, twelfth and thirteenth holes,” he says with a shit-eating grin and the crowd takes a collective breath; nods and eye rolls a plenty. “How about we see how good Harry’s golf knowledge is then. Harry, what are those three holes called?”

Harry just smiles maniacally. “That would be the White Dogwood, the Golden Bell, and the Azalea,” he says as he counts them off on his long, ringed fingers.

Niall nods approvingly. “Gotta love a man who knows his holes,” he says with a wink and gets one in return as well as a bonus double-dimpled smile.

“Oh my  _ god _ . Get a fucking room already,” Harry’s mate, Louis, says from beside him.

The audience breaks into raucous laughter, craning their necks to try and get a better look at who this Harry person is that’s stealing all of Niall's attention as the man in question starts to sink back into his seat. Niall needs to deflect and take back control of the situation.

“Okay, how about a few more songs?”

They launch into Nice To Meet Ya which is perhaps not the best choice given the previous exchange, but whatever, it’s fine, everything is fine. 

Everything is  _ not _ fine.

He can’t stop looking at Harry, is the thing. Little furtive glances between them and smiles blooming on his face without permission. He feels so drawn to Harry as he belts out Niall’s own songs right back at him and does these weird dance moves, seemingly unconcerned with how he looks or whose head he nearly takes off with his flailing arms. It’s refreshing and fucking hot as all hell and he can’t wait to get to the main show to see how Harry will react in that environment.

They play Paper Houses and then finish up with Black and White before he says his farewell and suggests they all take advantage of the VIP bar before the show, adding a little plug for his merch for good measure. 

When he wanders off stage he knows everyone is watching him, that bit he’s well accustomed to, but there’s only one set of eyes that burn a hole into his back as he retreats into the backstage area.

“Great set, mate. Funny Q and A too,” Billy says with a smirk in his voice as Niall hands him his guitar and spins around for him to remove his mic pack.

“Yeah, thanks man, felt good. Love doing these,” Niall says as he walks away with a wave over his shoulder.

Davie is upon him almost instantly. “So that was… interesting.”

“Fuck off. Can’t believe you let that question through, you bastard. Isn’t one of your super important jobs before soundcheck to screen them? Thought you were on my side!”

“What?” Davie exclaims, hand clutched to his chest in mock affront. “You handled it brilliantly, by the way. Hilarious as always. Although…” he says and side eyes Niall as they make their way along the corridor to his dressing room. “That Harry was certainly a curious bloke.”

“Hmmmm… curious. That’s one way to put it.”

They round the corner and step into his dressing room, the calming scent of vanilla candles wafting over him. Niall heads straight for the kettle and sets it to boil, a nice cuppa with some honey to soothe his vocal chords as he relaxes for the next couple of hours before show time is just the ticket right now.

“Sooooo…” Davie starts and Niall looks over to him. “I know I asked before but I thought we might need to revisit your response after, well, after whatever the fuck that was out there,” Davie says, thumbing over his shoulder. 

“Revisit what?”

“Do you have anyone who you want to add to the list for the after party?”

The devilish smile Davie gives him is enough to make Niall snort out a laugh. “You’re an asshole. Have I told you recently?”

“Daily,” Davie deadpans. “Doesn’t change the fact that I’m asking. Seriously. Do you want the four of them added? I can get them passes and arrange a car if you’d like. Might be nice to have some more lads from home at this thing. Could make for a good night. They seem like they’d be up for a bit fun.”

Niall only hesitates for a beat before nodding, which is something that he’ll most likely need to analyze at some point. He doesn’t usually open his inner circle like this but there’s just a familiarity and ease about Harry and his mates that he hasn’t felt in a while. “Yeah. Go on. Why not, eh? Should be a laugh,” he tries for casual but is pretty certain he’s not fooling anyone, least of all his best mate of more than ten years.

“Alrighty then,” Davie replies airily. “I’ll grab them after the main show. You need anything else?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Okay. Gonna head off and do a few things.”

“See ya, mate,” Niall says as the kettle clicks off and Davie leaves. He makes his tea and sits himself down to watch some more golf but he can’t focus, green eyes and dimples and chocolate curls filling his thoughts.


	3. Can We Talk?

The roar of the crowd is deafening, chants of  _ Niall Niall Niall _ ringing out around Harry as the sea of fans speak with one voice. The whole encore thing is hilarious, really, it’s not like Niall won’t be coming back out to finish his set but that doesn’t stop the growing hysteria as everyone waits in anticipation. 

The show has been phenomenal. Niall is the ultimate performer, commanding the attention of every person in the arena like they’re puppets on a single string, bending to his will and hanging off every word, every movement.

Harry is a sweaty mess, curls stuck to his forehead and temples, shirt clinging to his back as his mates cocoon him against the barrier as they await Niall’s return.

It’s been a heady two days, the excitement building from the moment they got in the car yesterday and put on Harry’s  _ Niall is Godlike _ playlist which he had prepared for the trip. They’d kept it fairly tame last night, just a few beers before hitting the hay nice and early.

Today had been a whirlwind of preparations to get ready, a hearty brunch followed by a pamper session at the hotel’s spa before heading to the venue just a few hundred metres away.

Soundcheck was an experience he will never forget. Being able to make a connection like that with a man he’s admired from afar for so long will go down as one of the highlights of his life. He made him laugh, for fucks sake. Actual cackling, head-thrown-back laughter rumbling up from his chest and spilling from his mouth. He knows he was just imagining it, but there seemed to be something else going on too, a different type of connection. The way Niall had kept glancing at him and he sang, as if the words were just for him and had deeper meanings, like he was trying to communicate directly with Harry. Little smiles, and a soft pink blush that Harry was sure he’d spied more than once, creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks. Of course, Niall is a showman and a very successful one at that, so he surely makes every fan feel like he’s singing just to them, but Harry can dream.

The stage lights go off and the crowd absolutely loses it, the boys all throwing their hands in the air as Harry is jostled around, pushing up against the barricade but he could honestly care less. This night will go down in history as one of the best of his life and he wants to suck every morsel from the experience.

Niall comes bounding back onto the stage and a single spotlight shines down on him. He approaches the mic and waves high in the air. “Thought we might do a few more songs if that’s alright with you all?”

It’s said with a cheeky Irish lilt and a matching smirk and gets the audience screaming in delight. The band slots in behind him and they start the encore.

By the end of the set Harry is happy and sad and overwhelmed and every emotion imaginable piled on top of sheer exhaustion. The house lights go up and people start to disperse, albeit slowly. They’re crammed together like sardines in a tin and have to wait for each person to peel themselves away one by one before they can move.

“Harry!” A man’s voice catches his attention and he turns in the direction from which it came, shocked to find a somewhat familiar face staring back at him from the other side of the barricade. Oh,  _ shit _ . Harry fish mouths as he registers that the man calling his name is none other than Niall’s manager, and long-time best mate, Davie Finnigan.

“Uhm… hi?” Harry replies, a questioning tone underlying his words indicating his utter disbelief. His brain goes into panic mode. He feels his mates crowd around him, Louis leaning his chin on Harry’s shoulder and pressing him into the barricade as Davie stands on the other side wearing a broad smile.

“Harry, I’m Davie, Niall’s-“

“Best mate!” Liam shouts, finishing for him. “Holy shit!”

“Aye up, mate,” Louis adds. “Sick show, yeah?”

Davie nods. “Great show. Glad you guys enjoyed it.”

“He was amazing. And the band too. What can we… uhm… do for you?” Harry asks, nerves on edge and desperate to know what this is about.

Davie leans in closer and the boys bunch up tighter around Harry. “Niall was wondering if you lads might be interested in dropping by the after party. He had a great time bantering and all that with you at soundcheck and he’s always up for a few drinks with a fun crowd.”

The world stops spinning and Harry stands there, dumbfounded, Louis’ high pitched squeal barely registering above the sound of blood rushing in his ears. 

“Seriously?” Zayn and Liam ask in unison. 

“Yeah. Can’t give you the location… for obvious reasons…” he practically whispers, eyes darting around to the gradually thinning crowd. “But there’s a car waiting in the loading dock downstairs to take you back to your accommodation so you can get changed and then onto the party if you’re keen.”

“If we’re keen? Are you fucking with us? Of  _ course _ we’re keen. Get in!” Louis shouts, jumping up and down behind Harry and jostling him further forwards.

“Harry?” Davie asks, looking a bit worried at Harry’s lack of response.

“Oh, uhm… yeah.  _ God _ , yes. That would be amazing. T-thank you so much,” Harry stammers out.

Davie laughs at Harry’s stumbled words and smiles. “Alright then. Come with me,” he says and motions towards the end of the barricade where a security guard is stationed.

The boys eagerly make their way to the end and Davie waves them through, handing them each a lanyard with a big A emblazoned on the laminated surface. They slide them over their heads and follow along around the side of the stage.

Harry can hear muffled squeals and chatter behind him as Louis grabs his arm. “Can you fucking believe this, Haz?”

“N-no. Lou, help. What the fuck is happening right now?”

Louis links their arms together and leans in. “All your dreams are coming true, mate,  _ that’s _ what’s happening.”

The backstage area is abuzz with activity and the entire scene is so surreal Harry is sure he’s passed out and his overactive imagination has taken over. People scoot past on segways, others pushing huge crates on wheels as the group weaves in and out of the mayhem.

The crowd momentarily clears and Harry stops in his tracks, Liam and Zayn running into his back as he nearly yanks Louis’ arm out of its socket. Niall is just… there, twenty or so metres away, standing at the doorway to a room, chatting with some guy, presumably from the crew based on his attire. The absurd thing is that they’ve been closer than this, both during soundcheck and then again during the main show, but somehow it’s different now, back here. Niall must sense something amiss and he glances up. His eyes widen before he relaxes, leaning up against the door jam and crossing his arms over his chest. He looks right at Harry and raises his chin, gives him a small nod and then a smile breaks out over his face and he winks. He fucking  _ winks _ .

Harry’s had a few moments in his life that he considers important, monumental even, things he’s been able to look back on in hindsight and know they changed the course of his life. But this one… this one has just jumped to the top of the list with a bullet. 

“Oh my god,” Zayn whispers in his ear, putting voice to Harry’s thoughts.

Harry just holds Niall’s gaze, steels himself, feels the tug at the corner of his mouth as it forms into a grin, and winks right back at him. The resulting cackle that Niall lets out rings through the bustling corridor, over the top of all the other noise and chatter and it’s the single most beautiful sound Harry has ever heard.

Harry is emboldened and starts walking again to catch them up to Davie who has rounded a corner out of sight. He gives one final nod of his head toward Niall who is still smiling back at him and the moment is over.

Davie is waiting at a set of large double doors, holding one of them open and the group hurries along and through into the loading dock area. Huge trucks fill the space, crates and other equipment being loaded into the backs, burly men shouting instructions at each other as they work. Two large coaches are off to one side, presumably Niall’s tour buses, and to the other side there is a line of imposing black SUVs.

“Over here lads,” Davie says and leads them to one of the vehicles. “This is Graham, he’ll be your driver for tonight. As I mentioned, he’ll take you back to wherever you’re staying and then on to the party. He’ll bring you back afterwards as well, so don’t worry about that.”

Liam steps up first and shakes Graham’s hand. “Hey, mate. Nice to meet ya.”

Louis chuckles at the obvious reference and Davie rolls his eyes. “You know, I really didn’t want him to name the damn song that, but Niall thought it would be funny. I only suggested the whole promo strategy out of spite to irritate him but the bastard loved it.”

“It’s worked incredibly well,” Louis offers.

“Mhmmm, that it has,” Davie says and gives Harry a quick glance. “Alright. I’ll leave you in Graham’s capable hands and see you at the party soon.”

“Thanks, Davie!” Louis shouts excitedly and finally lets go of Harry’s arm, greeting Graham with a warm hug which he accepts graciously. The rest of them say their goodbyes to Davie, thanking him profusely, and Louis jumps into the front seat because that’s just the way he is as the others pile into the back.

“Where to gents?” Graham asks as he drives off.

“Just up the road to the Novotel, thanks,” Liam says and Harry is still not sure he’s entirely lucid.

From there, things are a bit chaotic. Back in their suite it’s a flurry of activity, in and out of the bathroom, suitcases flung open, hair dryer on full blast, music pumping out of their portable bluetooth speaker, and cologne creating a heavy, fragrant mist.

Harry’s ready first, of course, closely followed by Liam, and they take up spots on one of the beds to watch as Louis and Zayn primp and preen themselves.

Liam drapes his arm around Harry’s shoulders and it’s nice, grounding. “Hey. You okay?”

“Mmmm… just… this is all so-“

“Unbelievable?” Liam asks and Harry nods, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “I know. But it’s fucking amazing right?”

“Yeah. Just overwhelming, I guess,” Harry says with a sigh and a soft smile as Liam hugs him tighter.

By the time Louis and Zayn have finally finished with their hair and they get back on the road, most of the post-show traffic has dissipated. Graham is solid and sure as he weaves in and out, hurtling them ever closer to Niall. Harry’s stomach is in knots and every tactic he employs to calm his nerves fails dismally. 

“Hey,” Liam says above the din Zayn and Louis are creating as they belt out Niall’s greatest hits at full volume. He reaches over and gives Harry’s leg a squeeze. “You’re gonna be fine. I know it’s a lot but we’ll be right there with you. I won’t let you make an arse of yourself.”

Liam is an angel and Harry doesn’t know what’s he’s done to deserve his friendship for the last ten years, but he’s so grateful for it. “I’ll be fine. Just nervous is all.”

“Want me to tell you a secret?” Liam asks conspiratorially, leaning into Harry’s side. Harry nods and ducks his head down. “We’re all terrified too. We just have different ways of dealing with it.”

Harry turns his head and looks up. “Yeah?”

“Mhmmm… why do you think I changed outfits four times and do you really reckon it takes Louis thirty minutes to style just his fringe?”

Harry chuckles and kisses Liam on the cheek. “I love you quite a lot. Thanks, mate.”

The lights of the city fly by them in a blur as they make their way through the main centre of Sydney and onto the Eastern Suburbs. Before Harry is ready—not that he thinks he could ever really  _ be _ ready—Graham brings the car to a stop outside a grand looking dome-topped building near an open expanse of park with a beach beyond. 

“You boys are headed for the rooftop bar. The entrance is just over there,” he says and points through the windscreen to an awning covered entrance with a serious looking security guard standing outside. “Davie has you on the list so just show your IDs and you’ll be fine. If you have any trouble, just come back to me and we’ll sort it out.”

“Thanks, Graham,” Louis says with a thumbs up as he leaps out of the front seat.

“What will you do while we’re gone?” Harry asks, trying to delay the inevitable.

“I’ll go and park up somewhere quiet, read my Kindle. Don’t worry about me,” Graham says and reaches back to Liam, handing him a business card. “Just give me a shout when you’re ready to leave.”

Zayn has already made his escape and is standing on the footpath with Louis who is bouncing on the balls of his feet like an excited toddler. God knows what he’s going to be like with some alcohol added to the mix but it’s sure to be a sight to see.

“Okay, thanks, Graham,” Liam says and pockets the card, nudging Harry’s shoulder. “Come on, Haz. Let’s go before Louis comes and hauls us out by our ears.”

Harry grabs onto the door handle, hand trembling, and steps out, Liam sliding out behind him. The group makes their way to the entrance and Liam gives their names to the security guard. They all flash their IDs and are miraculously waved inside. Harry keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop and for this to have all been a fever dream, but as they wait for the elevator he realises that this is really happening. He ponders to himself that maybe Niall won’t even be here. Maybe this is just, like, the public after party for the crew and other guests and Niall is actually somewhere entirely different with the people he actually wants to hang out with.

As the elevator doors open to reveal the rooftop bar those musings are stopped dead in their tracks because there, on the far side of the space huddled with a few people, is the man himself. Harry sucks in a lungful of air as they pile out, Louis and Zayn heading straight for the bar while Liam hangs back with Harry.

“You didn’t think he’d actually be here, did you?” Liam asks as though he can read Harry’s mind.

Harry lets out a soft chuckle. “I did wonder.”

Harry drags his eyes away long enough to take in his surroundings. The rooftop bar is decked out in stylish white wood with stunning blue and green accents befitting the beachside location. The lighting is subdued, low hanging round glass baubles the size of fish bowls that are emitting a soft golden hue and creating a calming ambience. It’s a nice sized space, large enough for people to be spread out whilst still feeling cozy. He’s surprised to find that there are only about thirty people milling around the bar on the long wall, some high top tables in the centre and the terrace beyond that overlooks the promenade and out to the beach. The music is loud enough to drown out the chatter, but not obnoxiously so. It’s all quite lovely and Harry feels more at ease the further he steps inside.

Louis and Zayn have migrated from the bar to one of the high top tables so Harry decides drinks are in order. “Beer, Li?”

“Thanks, man,” Liam says and pats Harry on the shoulder before making a beeline for their friends.

Harry slides up to the bar and casts his eyes over the offerings on tap. It’s the usual spread of Aussie favorites that he’s become accustomed to during their months here in the Land Down Under. He orders two schooners of Little Creatures and watches as the bartender pulls them with practiced hands. 

He’s distracted, drumming his fingers on the counter as he hums along to the melody of some unidentifiable track and doesn’t notice the person approaching to his left as the bartender sets his beers in front of him.

“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” an all too familiar voice says beside him, making him startle, skin tingling with excitement.

Harry turns and Niall is just… there, beside him, not in some pap pics or on the radio or in his dreams, but right there, inches away, beaming a broad smile at Harry with his trademark blue eyes shining brightly.

“Hi,” Harry says breathlessly. “You were amazing, the show, the show was amazing,” he rushes out.

“Yeah? Glad you enjoyed it. Love performing in Australia. It always has a completely different vibe to the rest of the world. More… free?”

“Yeah, I can see how it would be. Went to a few of your shows in the UK and they were amazing too, but you’re right, this did feel different.”

Harry’s more than a little shocked he’s able to get whole sentences out but for some bizarre reason he finds himself quite relaxed in Niall’s company. Standing here together, leaning up against the bar, they’re just two guys and a sense of calm washes over him.

“Thanks for inviting us. It was really nice of you.”

“Thanks for coming. Don’t get to hang out with regular people on the road much. You blokes reminded me of my mates from home so I figured, why not, eh?”

“The place is lovely.”

Niall looks around as if he’s taking it in for the first time. “Davie did good. Bit of a trek from the venue but it was worth it.”

Harry nods, curls bouncing around his face. “Yeah. It’s great. Fair warning though, I think the lads intend to take advantage of the open bar, so you might wanna cut them off at some point,” he says with a grin.

“Really? Can’t imagine a bunch of Northern lads would be too much trouble,” Niall deadpans and Harry honks out a laugh. He gathers himself and clears his throat but when he looks back at Niall he’s smiling like the cat that got the cream. “You’ve got a great laugh, you know that? It was the first thing that caught my attention.”

Harry blushes from the tips of his ears to the ends of his toes. “Oh god,” he says and rests his arms on the bar, leaning down and thumping his head on top. “That’s mortifying.”

Niall chuckles and Harry feels Niall’s hand gently patting the middle of his back. Harry freezes because that’s Niall Horan, touching him.  _ Him _ . 

The hand is gone before Harry can properly react. “Shit. Sorry. I shouldn’t have-“

Harry snaps his head up. “No. Don’t be silly. You’re fine. I’m just  _ clearly _ an idiot.”

“Hey, you’re not. It’s my bad. I shouldn’t go around touching people I don’t know,” Niall says emphatically, brows furrowed in concern.

“Well,” Harry says and turns his body to face Niall. “How about we get to know each other?”

The brightness comes flooding back to Niall’s face and he nods as the bartender places Niall’s drink in front of him.

“Cheers, mate,” Niall says and picks up his glass.

Harry nods his head toward the boys. “Lead on then.”

Niall strides ahead and Harry can’t help but ogle his arse even though he chastises himself internally. He needn’t have bothered trying to be stealthy because as they approach Louis chooses to throw Harry squarely under the bus.

“Quit staring at his arse you filthy animal!”

Harry blanches and stumbles, nearly spilling his and Liam’s beers. Niall swivels his head around and smirks at Harry’s obvious embarrassment, giving his butt a good wiggle for added effect. “This arse?”

Instead of backing off like a decent human being Louis goes for broke. “Hazza’s always had a thing for your butt. God knows why. There’s barely anything there,” Louis says and leans forward exaggeratedly, pretending to assess Niall’s bum.

Niall comes to a stop at the table and sets his drink down, reaching around to grab a double-handful of his own arse cheeks. “Hey, I’ll have you know I was voted Best Butt of 2019 by Teenage Dreams Mag! My arse is... award winning.”

The table erupts into fits of laughter and Harry just shakes his head as he hands Liam his beer. “I hate you all.”

“Awwww babes, you really don’t,” Zayn says through a fit of giggles.

The boys introduce themselves properly and Harry watches on, amazed that this is all real. He’s at a bar with his three best mates and the objection of his affection—obsession, whatever—who is still behaving shockingly normal.

The drinks flow easily and rapidly and Niall doesn’t budge from Harry’s side once, leaning in to share jokes and whispered comments just for the two of them. A few drinks later Harry’s inhibitions are lowered and the more he relaxes.

Niall fits into their little group like the missing piece of the puzzle, matching Louis’ wit, Liam’s calm demeanor and Zayn’s geekiness with effortless ease. He brings an interesting dynamic of his own too. He’s fucking hilarious is the first thing, but he’s also smart as a whip and worldly in a way Harry can’t help but admire. He’s so drawn to him in every way and soon enough he forgets that he’s famous, that he’s  _ the _ Niall Horan, and he becomes just Niall.

The boys share stories from their time in Australia and pull no punches in teasing Harry mercilessly with tales of his less than stellar escapades in the surf, much to Niall’s delight and Harry’s horror.

Their flirting is ever present though, as the conversations ebb and flow around them; small glances, little touches, a look here, and a caress there. To their credit, even with the teasing, the boys do manage to act as excellent wingmen, touting Harry’s achievements—not that there’s many—and espousing his best characteristics. 

Niall eventually excuses himself to the bathroom and Harry watches him go with a wistful sigh. He turns back to the group and is met with three very eager looking mates, eyes bugging out of their heads as they wear matching grins.

Harry frowns and tilts his head. “Y’alright?”

“Oh my  _ god _ !” Louis stage whispers, but he may as well as have shouted it a full volume for all the good it does.

“What?” Harry asks, slightly bemused.

“What do you mean,  _ what _ ? Have you fallen down and hit your head?” Louis asks, bordering on hysterical.

And yeah, Harry knows he and Niall have been getting along but he’s trying to tamp down any hopeful feelings, convinced Niall is just generally friendly and is probably like this with everyone. “He’s just being a good host.”

“No, he’s fucking not,” Zayn says incredulously. “He’s totally into you. Can you really not see it?”

“Well. I thought maybe-“

“Maybe? C’mon, Haz,” Liam chastises with a roll of his eyes. “A blind man could see what’s going on here.”

By the time Niall returns Harry is lost in thought. “Penny for them?” Niall asks, nudging his side and bringing Harry back to the present. 

“Oh. Nothing. Just thinking.”

“Dangerous practice. Thinking. Just go with the flow. That’s my motto.”

“Hardly,” Harry scoffs. “You’re a talented musician and an accomplished businessman. That doesn’t happen without careful planning, hard work and dedication-“

“And being in the right place at the right time. There’s a big dose of good fortune and luck in there too.”

Harry just smiles and nods, taking in Niall’s words as he launches into more tales from the tour and life as a musician, the boys hanging in his every word. He talks about playing golf all over the world, earning jibes and eye rolls from Louis, Liam, and Zayn, but Harry can’t get enough of it. He chucks in a healthy amount of dumb golf jokes and puns and innuendos making Niall cackle with glee.

The hours pass by quickly and Harry never wants this night to end. He doesn’t want to miss a moment of it but soon enough his bladder forces him to break away and find relief.

He heads down the corridor to the bathroom, stealing a few moments alone to try and process all that the night has entailed. When he emerges the last thing he expects to find is Niall leaning up against the opposite wall, tugging his bottom lip between his fingers. He looks up to reveal a nervous expression and Harry tilts his head in curiosity.

“Didn’t think I was so drunk that I needed an escort back to the table, but thanks?”

“Can we talk?” Niall asks, apparently oblivious to Harry’s attempt at humour.

“Yeah, uhm, sure?”

Niall pauses, as if he’s unsure of himself but with a curt nod he walks off toward the exit to the outdoor terrace, Harry trailing obediently behind him. 

They take a seat on the long couch near the railing, far away from the rest of the after party crowd; just them, the stars, and the sounds of waves crashing on the beach.

Niall sighs, long and forlorn, and scrubs his hands down his face. “Listen, Harry.”

“Oh dear. This doesn’t sound good,” Harry says trying to lighten the mood but then Niall gazes up at him and all the air is sucked out of Harry’s lungs.

“Okay, so bear with me. I’m not very good at this. I’m having a great time with all of you, especially you, and I get the impression you are too. The thing is… fuck… I really like you and you’re probably expecting things to go a certain way tonight-“

Wait, what? “No, I-“

“i mean I know that us musicians have a rep for being all sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll, but that just isn’t me. I don’t do hookups and, contrary to what you might read in the tabloids, I don’t have people stashed in every city around the world just waiting for my bootie call. It’s just not who I am.”

Harry is confused. He’s not sure when he gave off the vibe that he was looking for a one-night-stand but clearly he has, and now Niall’s trying to let him down gently. Awesome. “Niall. I can assure you I didn’t think-“

“Hang on. I wanna get this out. Like I said, I really like you. I haven’t felt a connection like this with someone in a long time and I’ll level with you… I’m not entirely sure what to do about it.”

Harry’s a bit taken aback. Is this what Niall thinks of him? “Well. It’s simple. You don’t have to do anything about it and I’m truly sorry if I gave you the impression that a quick fuck with a famous musician is what I’m after, because I can assure you, it most definitely isn’t.”

Niall recoils at Harry’s words. “No. I’m just… Shit. I’m doing this all wrong. Sorry, bit out of practice,” he says and shakes his head. He reaches over and takes Harry’s hands in his. “What I’m  _ trying _ to say is that I like you. A lot. But I don’t want to sleep with you tonight or kiss you or any of the other things that are running through my dumb head at the moment. You’re on your big adventure with the lads and I’m on tour for another 6 months, but after that we’ll both be in the same country and I’d very much like to see where this goes. Like, properly give it a chance. Take it slow. Dates. All the stuff that, you know, normal people do.”

Harry waits for the punchline but none comes. “Y-you want to date me?”

“Mhmmm… date you, hang out with you, play golf with you. All of it. I know it’s a lot to ask and I’ll understand if you don’t want to wait for me, or, god forbid, if you’re not interested, but I think we’ve got the makings of something special and I’d definitely like to see where it can go.”

Niall looks up at him with such a hopeful expression that Harry wants to kiss him until his lips fall off and while his head and heart love that Niall wants to take it slow, his dick isn’t so thrilled. “I’d really like that,” he says softly.

Niall lets out a lungful of air, relief washing over his features as he tilts his head back to look at the dark, night sky. “Oh, thank fuck for that.”

The atmosphere is heavy, the implications of their conversation hanging between them and Harry desperately wants to diffuse it.

“Hey, Niall.”

Niall lowers his head and quirks a brow. “Yeah?”

“Why don’t grasshoppers play golf?

Niall grins. “I dunno, Harry. Why don’t grasshoppers play golf.”

“Because they like cricket better.”

Niall stares at him blankly. “I’ve changed my mind,” he says flatly, withdrawing his hands from Harry’s grasp but Harry can see the makings of a grin threatening to reveal itself at the corners of his mouth.

“Noooooo,” Harry says as he grabs Niall’s shoulders and pulls him for a tight hug. “You love my golf jokes.” The words are whispered into Niall’s cheek, the warmth of his skin seeping into Harry, so familiar but new at the same time.

Harry feels Niall’s chest stuttering with a chuckle. “Yeah. Yeah, I really do. Just one of the many things that makes you special.”

Harry pulls back and meets Niall’s gaze. “So. What do we do now?”

“Gimme your phone,” Niall says and holds out his hand.

Harry smiles and nods, fishing into his back pocket and handing it over. “Sounds like a good place to start.”

Niall punches his number in and sends himself a text, the chime going off in his jeans. “I’m gonna be a menace, you do realise that? Bothering you at all times of the day and night. Time zones be damned.”

“And you think I’m not?” Harry asks, mock offended, clutching his hand to his chest. “There are literally  _ thousands _ of bad golf jokes. You’re going to be so sick of me.”

“Never.”

When they return to the table, they’re met with raised eyebrows and wolf whistles which is to be expected. Niall just tells them all to fuck off and mind their goddamn business which only earns him more teasing for his trouble. Harry can’t get the smile off his face and when Niall gets all the other boys numbers too and adds them into a WhatsApp group chat he feels like he’s going to burst with joy.

It’s the early hours of the morning by the time they call an end to the night, Liam texting Graham for their pickup as they all bid farewell. And if the hug Niall and Harry share lingers longer than would be deemed friendly, then that’s just lovely.


	4. Sun, Sand, Surf, and Golf

_ Three years later... _

“Thanks for taking the time to sit down with me and welcome back to Australia,” Candice says, pasting on an obviously fake smile, and a well rehearsed one at that as she bats her eyelashes suggestively. He should be used to it after all this time but overly flirtatious interviews always irritate him. She hadn’t done herself any favours in the pre-interview either and he can already predict this is going to be all gossip and no substance.

Niall sits back in his seat, the studio lights shining too brightly into his eyes adding to his general annoyance of having to be here, when he’d really rather be anywhere else. “Yeah, thanks. It’s great to be back,” he says, plastering on his own fake smile, trying to tamp down the desire to roll his eyes at the way she’s looking at him hungrily. “It’s always a pleasure to visit this awesome country and the Australian fans are some of the best in the world.”

It’s a phrase he’s said countless times, in countless cities, during countless interviews just like this one, but what else is he gonna say? He does love Australia though, that much is true. And the fans are definitely awesome, but then all his fans are, if only he didn’t have to deal with people like this. The Australian media hasn’t exactly done itself any favours with him over the years, people like Ash London, Ed Kavalee, and Kyle Sandilands to name a few who he’s blacklisted. About the only one Niall has any time for is Smallzy, at least he is usually genuine and Niall considers him a decent bloke, maybe not a friend as such, but he’s definitely someone he doesn’t mind spending a bit of time with. But Niall also understands that this is part of the deal, promo being a necessary evil, so he takes the good with the bad and puts his best foot forward.

“Congratulations on the Grammy. Getting that kind of accolade must be a thrill. Your second, right?”

Surely she could have bothered to google him or something before she sat down for the interview. “Third, actually. It’s a great honour, the pinnacle in my business, and I’m thrilled to be recognized for my work.”

She seems completely unfazed by her error and barrels on. “Right. Right, of course,” she says but like she’s just happy to be moving on through the pleasantries and Niall has a fairly good idea where she’s headed if the gleam in her eye and the way she sits slightly forward is anything to go by. “How’s the tour going?”

“Grand. I love being on the road, seeing all the fans and hearing them scream my lyrics back at me. It’s the best thing for an artist to have that validation and to get to interact with them all and I love being able to give back to them as well.”

Her eyes light up at that and Niall realises he’s stepped right into her trap. 

“Hmmm... I understand the last time you were here was quite eventful... for your personal life, I mean.”

And there it is. She barely even attempted a decent ramp up, a couple of cursory questions and then straight in with it.

He’s used to this by now. It irks him a bit, but he takes great pleasure in smacking down these tabloid-type hack journalists for sport. Bring it on.

“I had a great time when I was here last. The shows were awesome and so was the golf. Brilliant courses here,” he offers, not wanting to make this any easier for her.

She purses her lips, clearly not getting the answer she was angling for. Good. She’s going to have to work a bit harder than that.

“There was one fan in particular that got quite a bit of your attention though. I’m sure you know who I’m talking about. Harry Styles? The video footage of the two of you at the after party made headlines around the world.”

“Well, I don’t know whether you could say  _ around the world _ , but yeah, there were a few articles here and there.”

She’s not wrong, of course. The staff member at the bar who took the grainy video would’ve been well paid for their troubles by the tabloids and it made things quite difficult for a while. Not so much for him, but definitely for Harry. The opportunistic bastard had managed to capture almost their entire conversation out on the terrace, hugs and hand holding, all of it. No audio though, and they’ll both be grateful for that for the rest of their lives. But the footage itself was enough to create a feeding frenzy.

It didn’t come out until a week after Niall had left Australia and was about to go on stage in Tokyo. He and Harry were just in the fledgling stages of establishing a friendship and then they were spread across the tabloids. It hadn’t taken long for the dots to be joined and Harry to be identified as a fan who had attended his show and the media lapped it up. Niall didn’t care so much about the impact on himself, but for Harry it was a nightmare. Davie was brilliant and did everything he could to protect Harry from the worst of it, never once questioning Harry’s intentions or loyalty, and he never had a reason to. It would’ve been easy for Harry to sell him out, Liam, Zayn, and Louis too, but they stood firm and batted back every advance from the vultures that came swooping in.

Things died down as they always do, but it still gets brought up in some interviews, even if only in passing. He used to blacklist the topic, but it became a game of cat and mouse and the interviewers would just circle around it until it became the focus without it being technically mentioned so he just doesn’t bother anymore. It’s just a minor irritation for him, and constant source of hilarity for Harry anyway, so he lets it slide. After all, it’s the story of how he met the love of his life and the man that is a frequent subject of his songs, particularly the sappy ones, so it’s woven into the fabric of both his professional and personal lives now. Can’t hurt to mention it here and there. He just wishes they would stop focusing on the fan aspect.

“So is it weird dating a fan?”

Right. Clearly his wish isn’t coming true in this interview then.

“Pretty normal actually. Harry’s a fan, sure, but as an artist, I think it’d be weird to be with someone who  _ didn’t _ like my music.”

“And-“

“Harry’s amazing,” he says, cutting her off. “I mean. What’s not to love? He likes my music, he thinks I’m hot, he plays golf, he loves me, and he makes a mean roast chicken. The perfect man I’d say.”

“Of course. I guess it just gives hope to other fans too.”

Harry snorts a laugh from the other side of the room, hidden in the darkness with Davie who is surely finding this just as amusing. Niall is going to strangle them both with his bare hands when they get out of here.

Niall frowns and purses his lips. “Why would it do that?”

“Well, because your fans know they have a chance with you, that you’re open to relationships with them too.”

”Uhm… no?”

“No?”

Is this woman dense or something?

“Sorry. Maybe the situation isn’t clear. I’m. With. Harry. We’re together. We’re partners. You know, living together. In love. In a relationship.”

“Oh! Right. No, I meant-“

“What? After we break up?”

Niall hears two snorts from the shadows this time. Yup. Definitely going to murder them.

“Oh no! Of course not,” she says, slightly flustered now. “I just mean that-“

“He’s right over there, you know,” Niall says with a smirk and nods toward the shadows where he knows Harry and Davie are lurking. Harry had come in late, opting to do a bit of retail therapy while they were busy doing the pre-interview and the photo shoot for the magazine article. It’s a one stop shop; print, photo spread, and an on-camera interview. He prefers it this way, gets it all done in one go and then he’s free to enjoy the city.

Candice blanches as Harry ducks out from his hiding place, but still off camera, and gives her a little wave and a grin before disappearing again. Niall takes far too much delight in the resulting grimace that makes its way onto her heavily made up face but he also wants to move things along.

“Uhm… so…” she says, faltering slightly, so Niall nods encouragingly. “Right. So what’s the plan for your free time here in Australia?”

“Sun, sand, surf and golf. Do you have any recommendations?” She smiles, a genuine one this time and the interview goes rather more smoothly from then on. Maybe he should have Harry come to them all to keep them in check.

It’s been amazing having him on the road with him this time, no more time zone challenges and missing each other like crazy from opposite sides of the world. After their rocky start with all the media attention, things had settled down a bit and, as promised, they’d taken it slowly. The messaging was constant, both with Harry as well as the group chat with all the lads. Of course, he and Harry’s conversations were different, more flirtatious and heavier smattering of golf jokes, but they kept it light nonetheless. Harry and the boys had wound up their Great Australian Lads Adventure at around the same time as Niall’s tour had finished and Harry had assured him that it was just a happy coincidence, but Niall suspects it was a motivated decision. Either way, they’d both found themselves back in London and free to kick things up a notch. 

Their first real date had almost ended in disaster when Harry had come over and Niall had nearly set the kitchen on fire, too distracted by finally having Harry there with him in the flesh and not on a FaceTime call. He’d gotten a small burn on the tip of his pinkie finger in the chaos but Harry had kissed it better. Things had rapidly escalated from there to quick and dirty hand jobs against the kitchen cupboard, the remnants of the baked salmon smoldering away in the background. They’d gotten takeout instead, didn’t leave the house for three days, and two weeks later Harry had moved in.

Harry had started freelancing as a graphic designer, putting his studies to use, while Niall worked on his handicap at the local golf club before focusing in earnest on his next album. The songs were different, more ballads this time, with the lyrics telling the story of their growing love. He travelled a bit, to award shows and other events, sometimes Harry would accompany him, sometimes not, but never on the red carpet, both of them preferring to keep their relationship out of the spotlight as much as possible.

Things haven’t all been plain sailing, of course, every relationship having its ups and downs and challenges to overcome; theirs are just slightly more unique. When Niall had embarked on a short promo tour in the US last year for the first single off the new album, performing at the Jingle Balls and doing the rounds of the talks shows, things had become strained. It was the longest they’d been apart since they’d gotten together and the time difference and physical distance meant their connections were often stilted and rushed. So when some out of context pap pics emerged from an after party the tabloids had a field day eluding to a new love interest for Niall. It was all bollocks, naturally, but it hit them hard, unable to reassure each other in the way they would have had they been together.

Niall had returned to London a week later and the subsequent conversation had made them realize a lot of things, not least of which that they didn’t want to be apart like that ever again. Harry revealed he’d decided not to come with him because he didn’t want to be needy and crowd Niall, and Niall hadn’t pushed it in an attempt not to encroach on Harry’s independence and make him feel like he was just part of his entourage. It didn’t take long for them to admit that actually both wanted the same thing and vowed that Harry would make any future trip longer than a few days with him, thankful that his job allowed him the flexibility to work from anywhere in the world.

Niall wanders out of the bathroom of their hotel suite, shirtless with a pair of comfy grey basketball shorts hanging low on his hips, refreshed and free of the makeup and heavy hair product from the shoot and interview. Harry looks up and smiles, locking his phone and setting it down on the couch beside him. “All better?”

“Mmmm… hate all that gunk all over me,” he says and flops down beside him, picking up the remote and flicking the TV onto the sports channel, day three of the Australian PGA about to start. “The lads on their way?”

“Yup,” Harry says and pulls Niall’s legs into his lap. Niall settles back on the armrest and crosses his ankles as Harry starts to rub his calves. “They’re just about to board at Heathrow.”

“And then our peaceful calm will be shattered,” Niall says with a long sigh.

Harry chuckles. “Yeah. We should uhm… make the most of it while it lasts, don’t you think?”

Niall glances over and quirks a brow at Harry’s none-too-subtle suggestive gaze. “Yeah. Yeah, we should.”

Harry slides his hand up Niall’s thigh, ducking his fingers under the hem of his shorts and walking them up to brush against his balls. “Commando, babe? How very…  _ convenient _ .”

The sounds of commentators' voices drift out from the speakers announcing the players arrival on the first tee and Niall’s eyes dart to the screen briefly before settling back on Harry. He’s been looking forward to watching this all day but with Harry looking at him like that, it’s hard to refuse him anything. He picks up the remote and goes to turn it off when Harry interrupts.

“Leave it on,” he says, voice low and deep as he shifts forward, pushing Niall’s legs off his lap and sinking to the floor. Niall sits up as Harry spins around, slotting himself between Niall’s legs and tugging at his pants. Niall tilts his head to the side in question. “What?” Harry asks, all faux innocence. “Don’t want you to miss the tee-off. I’ll just amuse myself down here for a bit.”

“Oooohhhh fuck yeah,” Niall says eagerly and lifts his hips so Harry can schuck his shorts off. “Love it when you do this.”

Harry just nods and smiles. “Been thinking about this all day, actually,” he says casually as he settles himself between Niall’s knees and pushes them apart, running his hands up his thighs. “God. You looked so hot during that photoshoot. All those blue steel poses.”

“I looked ridiculous,” Niall deadpans. “You know I hate that shit.”

Harry gasps, mock offended, hand clutched to his chest. “How very dare you! That’s my fit-as-fuck boyfriend you’re talking about.”

Niall laughs but it dies in his throat, Harry choosing that moment to lick a stripe up his already hardening cock. He throws his head back and stares up at the ceiling, waiting for the familiar warmth of Harry’s mouth, but it doesn’t come. He looks back down, confused to find Harry hovering over his groin, lips wet and tongue lolling out. Right. He needs to watch the golf. He fixes his gaze back on the screen and Harry wraps his lips around the head, humming in appreciation. 

Harry gets to work, hands and lips and tongue and throat as magical as ever. Niall keeps up the pretense of watching the TV but he’s really not paying attention. He reflexively reaches out and threads his fingers into Harry’s hair but withdraws them quickly when he earns a disgruntled grumble from his boyfriend, making it clear that he wants none of Niall’s attention.

He’s not going to last long, heat already building in his gut as Harry massages his balls and sucks him down, swirling his tongue around the crown. He’s emitting a low hum that’s sending vibrations through his cock, pushing him closer to the edge with every passing second.

“Fuck, babe. So good,” Niall moans and Harry pauses. Shit. “I mean… the golfers. The  _ golfers _ are so good.” 

He feels Harry smile around his cock and resumes his movements. Niall spreads his legs further apart, tilting his pelvis to give Harry better access. “Mmmm… The  _ strokes _ are on point today. A really good…  _ length _ . Might even reach the…  _ hole _ .”

Harry takes the cue and slides a finger down to his hole, pressing against it but not pushing in, just giving him the tantalizing hint of intent. He bobs his head up and down, taking him in all the way and swallowing around him, throat muscles working as he tugs at his balls and keeps the pressure on his hole, vibrations from his humming lighting up every nerve ending in Niall’s body until it’s too much.

“Oh  _ fuck _ , yeah, fucking hell!” Niall shouts and comes hard, eyes squeezed shut, hands fisted at his sides as Harry sucks him through the aftershocks.

He opens his eyes when Harry pulls off, and finds him shoving his pants down to his ankles, cheeks flushed and lips swollen as he tugs at his angry cock. Fuck he’s gorgeous. How did he ever get so lucky?

Niall sits up and Harry kneels on the couch between his spread legs so he can reach from his seated position, tongue at the ready to take Harry’s load. A few more quick strokes and Harry comes on his tongue, wayward spurts hitting his cheeks and chest. Harry collapses back onto the coffee table, breaths laboured, eyes glassy and staring back at Niall in awe. He always gets a little dopey after his release so Niall reaches for his discarded shorts and cleans them up.

“Think I need another shower, babe,” Niall says and pats Harry’s knees. “Wanna join me?”

“Yeah,” Harry pants out, eyes still unfocused. “Shower.”

“Come on then,” Niall says and stands, grabbing Harry’s hands and pulling him to his feet, helping him to step out of his sweatpants and spinning him around, guiding him towards the bathroom. 

“Hey, Niall. Where do ghosts play golf in the afterlife?”

Niall chuckles. “I dunno, babe. Where do ghosts play golf in the afterlife?”

“At the golf corpse,” he replies with a soft little giggle. 

“Ugh,” Niall groans, lifting Harry’s shirt over his head and stepping into the walk-in shower to turn on the water. “That one was terrible.”

Harry comes up behind him, wrapping his strong arms around his middle. “You love me,” he chirps happily.

Niall turns his head and pecks a kiss to his cheek. “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, a kudos or comment or both would be lovely xx
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [ jacaranda-bloom ](https://jacaranda-bloom.tumblr.com/) and if you’d like to reblog my [ Tumblr fic post ](https://jacaranda-bloom.tumblr.com/post/632591482082263040/dont-hold-back-by-jacaranda-bloom-written-for) that would be lovely!
> 
> PS If you'd like to be notified when I post other stories, you can subscribe [ here ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacaranda_bloom/).


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